Riccardo's useless Marathon blog

Pains and gains of my training.


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I’M ALIVE, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Dear fans,

Hiya!!!

It’s me again, sorry it took forever.

My dog, telling me that it's okay and calling me bro.

My dog, telling me that it’s okay and calling me bro.

After spending the last 7 months in bed trying to recover from this epic thing, this majestic venture, this legen – wait for it – dary act of force, this unique and unrepeatable feat that I accomplished on May 27th 2012 – a day that humanity will never forget and that in most country is now known as Riccardo the Marathon Runner’s Day – I finally found some strength and managed to reach my desk, switch on my laptop, check my favourite websites – if you know what I mean… – did some business and at last updated this magnificent blog without parallel.

As I already said: I am sorry. This seven months had been really tough for me: ever since Riccardo the Marathon Runner’s Day’s night my sleeps had been haunted by unuterrable nightmares and my days had been a continuous and exhausting succession of inexpressible pain. Over the past 184 days I have been through what the experts call the Marathon Blues – or Postmarathon Depression (PMD) and its symptoms consumed my mind and my body, made myself the bad copy of the extraordinay athlete I was, turned me into a wretch and culminated with your favourite person in the world – me – finding himself sleeprunning at night.

Yes, that’s right. I now sleeprun and I hate it and it’s not funny. My fan’s dog’s impression of me sleeprunning that you’ve just seen is funny but me sleeprunning it’s not funny.

But that was the past.

Today it’s 2013 and if it wasn’t for this massive hungover I would feel great. If the room wasn’t spinning and my mouth didn’t taste like a dead rat and my whole body wasn’t aching and my head wasn’t hosting a drilling and drumming jam session I would feel great.
But hey, there’s not much I can do about it now and in the end last night was amazing. You see last night the Edinburgh Council decided to celebrate me and my glorious accomplishment – that made everyone’s 2012 the best year of their lives – instead of Hogmanay and 75 thousand people gathered on Princes Street to honour me and there were bands playing awesome music and bottles of champagne were popping everywhere making everybody all wet and there were fireworks above the Edinburgh Castle and everyone was happy and drunk and then sick.

The fireworks above the Edinbrugh Castle to celebrate my magnificent endeavour

The fireworks above the Edinbrugh Castle to celebrate my magnificent endeavour

I was also very happy and drunk and then sick.

Also, apparently they’re thinking about putting up a statue of me in my marathon outfit in the heart of Holyrood Park but it’s not a sure thing yet. I’ll let yous know anyway.

So 2013 has started and I hope that you – my dear fans – will all have an amazing one and I hope your dreams will come true – unfortunately I won’t be able to meet you all you know but that doesn’t mean that your 2013 won’t be a great year nevertheless – and that you’ll get the chance to spend quality time with the people you love doing the things you love. Maybe get a room though.

As for me, my new year resolution for 2013 is NOT to run any marathon but to upload all the pictures of me running the Edinburgh Marathon 2012 ASAP instead and keep you posted with news and fun shit about me and my new role as a Marathon Trainer.

You, right now

You, right now

Yep. Since I am this awesome – FYI I am spreading my arms very very very wide the now – and I always do awesome things in an awesome way now loads of people – two – are gonna be running a marathon this year. My great pals Ale from Milan and Craig from Edinburgh will be running respectively the Madrid and the London Marathon and I will try my hardest to help them training, sharing with them all my knowledge about marathons and giving them all sort of tips in order to smash an amazing time but most of all not to die.

Posts will follow, maybe. So stay tuned.

Goodbye for now my friends and once again, happy new year.

bye bye

Bye bye


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I DID IT!!! OF COURSE.

Dear fans,

I did it: I ran the Edinburgh Marathon!!!

My big fan Quagmire “Oh yeahing”

In your face!!!

My big fan Nelson “Ha-haing” you.

And I got sunburnt.

My awesomely bearded sunburnt face

In my face.

But wait, one step at a time. Let’s start from the beginning.

  • Sunday 27th May 2012

6:00 am – Waking up & getting ready: As I promised I did get up at 6 am. Ridiculous 6 am. And as I promised I had scrambled eggs, a bit of bread and a banana for breakfast. And water. A lot of water. I also waited – and waited and waited – and then finally took a big dump. As I promised. And had a hot shower, always as I promised. I then wore my awesome outfit, drank a Lucozade, chatted with an incredibly-early-awake Marcus and reconsidered the whole thing. I decided to do it anyway and finally made my way to the start line of the Edinburgh Marathon Festival on Regent Road. As expected, there were fans everywhere and I had to sign a few thousand autographs before I got to the start line. Of course. Consumed two bananas and then finally met James. A really hungover James.

James and I, at the start line

9:00 am – At the start line: By 9 o’clock James and I were there, at the start line of the Edinburgh Marathon, both in a shit state. Him, rough as fuck and probably still drunk from the night before, and me, already shattered and eager to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. But still, both there. It was already hot and it could have only gotten hotter. Twelve thousand and six hundred people taking part in the Event were already waiting – between Regent and London Road – to start and another God-knows-how-many-thousand people were there too, giving the runners all the support and the last-minute tips they needed. Speaking of last minute tips: at 9:20 am I had to take a little walk and take some time for myself, as James wisely recommended me.

Me, before the start, pissing out the three lucozades and all the water I had drunk by then.

I then rubbed some vaseline on my thighs, focusing on the groin, taped up my nipples – not a big fan of bleeding nipples – and covered my face and arms with some awkwardly borrowed suncream which I of course sweated off pronto, hence the sunburnt face. Stretched my legs for a bit, took my time to reconsider once again the whole thing, got threatened with death by James in case I bailed out, decided to run and therefore didn’t get killed by James, made my way to my pen, smiled to the ladies and prayed the Lord. It was 9:30 am and there I was: trapped inside the orange pen: the one at the front. Of course. The one the fit runners were starting from. Of course. No need to mention that I was totally out of place. Of course. But they didn’t know it. Maybe.

Me, at the start line, showing some confidence in an awkward attempt to impress the ladies.

At 9:50 am the Edinburgh Marathon 2012 officially started on London Road as the professional runners started hitting the road. Their route and ours would have joined after one mile or so, but we would have had to wait till mile 13 or 14 before we saw them – running in the other direction after the turning point at mile 18 – making their way to the finish line. At 9:55 am on Regent Road we were all set up and ready to go.

The start line of the Edinburgh Marathon Festival 2012 on Regent Road.

One for the fans.

“Oh, hiya!”

10:00 am – Here we go: At exactly 10 o’clock the Edinburgh Marathon Festival 2012 started on Regent Road as well. A lot of excitement and a bit of tension during the countdown and then just excitement as soon as I started putting one foot in front of the other. Behind James taking this pictures there were two hundred thousand fans of mine shouting my name and cheering me. I swear to God.

Me, actually doing it, running the Edinburgh Marathon 2012

What happened during the 26,2 miles between the start and the finish line is hard to explain. Some pictures will be available soon and they’ll show you the state I was in while running all the way to Longniddry and back on the hottest day of the hystory of the whole United Kingdom. But let me tell you that in spite of the shit load of miles you’re supposed to run, the hard training you’re supposed to go through, the stupid diet you’re supposed to be on and the lovely drinks you’re supposed to say no to, I highly recommend everybody to run a marathon. During those 26,2 miles I went through a lot of different feelings and pains. Mainly pains. I learnt about muscles I didn’t even know as soon as they got sore and I learnt new coarse words as soon as I made them up. But I also learnt a lot about people – let me be gay for a second and thank every single member of the crew for being there the whole time giving us water and energy drinks and a slap on the back and good words everytime we needed and also every single person that was there, all the way long, in their own garden, or on the street, or on their bike, or on a walk with the dog or the children, cheering us up, singing for us, supporting us, giving us water and candy and helping us going through the pain and the tiredness – and please let me tell you how awesome everybody has been. Finally, I learnt a lot about myself not only when I crossed the finish line but during the whole marathon but that’s – forgive me – my own business. –

14:19 pm – At the finish line – After 4 hours 19 minutes and 51 seconds I crossed the finish line, in Musselburgh where five hundred thousand supporters of mine were waiting. I swear to God. No need to say that I was knackered. Knackered but insanely happy and so so so proud of myself. And looking awesome. Of course. Finishing my first – but not last! – marathon and doing it in such a good time and with such weather was – and still is – awesome. I crossed the finish line in the middle of a sprint that started 1,5 miles before and finished just a few yards after it when I collapsed on the floor of the football pitch where the finish line was, straight after being given the medal and the finisher t-shirt and a goody-bag with water and other stuff. I don’t want to talk about the three miles I had to walk because my legs were literally not working anymore so I won’t. But I will focus on the fact that I am awesome and I ran a marathon and you didn’t.

A really really really tired but happy me, at the finish line

It did then take me about two hours to find/be found by James and Louise and another two hours to get home but – believe me – I was – and still am – the happiest cunt alive and even though my legs are still pretty fucked today I have to say that finishing the marathon is one of the best feeling ever and it is a big achievement that makes me proud of myself. Especially because it got me free drinks at the pub all night – yes, I went to the pub the very night of the marathon, that’s how awesome I am! – but I’ll get there…

So now once again I want to thank everyone who believed in me – family, friends, blog followers – and also everyone who didn’t – family, friends, blog followers – , everyone that supported me donating money through my justgiving webpagewhich is gonna be online for three more months so that you can all still donate to Save the Children – and everyone who didn’t, everyone who was there – Marcus, Michele, Junio and Louise thanks for coming and of course James thanks for everything you’ve done – and everyone who wasn’t but wanted to be and is happy for me – mainly because I didn’t drop dead – and everyone who gave me free drinks all night – Chris and Robbie, cheers! – and everyone who shared a drink with me – at the Drop first and at Opium then – and of course all of yous for reading this blog and supporting me.

James and I at the finish line

So yeah, another post will follow soon and I will hopefully be able to publish some official pictures so that you can all see how fucking tired I was and of course looked – still awesome though! – during the 26,2 mile run. For now, I’ll leave you with this picture of mine I took on the bus home between an autograph and another.

Me and my medal.

Catch you later.

Love, Riccardo.


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LESS THAN 12 HOURS!

Dear fans,

Here we are: in less than 12 hours I’ll be finally running the Edinburgh Marathon.

My awesome Race Number, which is also my predicted time: 5684 hours, and my super relaxed expression.

In fact: in less than 12 hours I’ll be already out of breath. In less than 12 hours my knees will be sore as fuck. In less than 12 hours I’ll be sunburnt. In less than 12 hours I’ll be asking myself “Why???” every two seconds. In less than 12 hours I’ll be somewhere along the coast, lost and depressed. In less than 12 hours I’ll be hating my life.

Yep, here we are.

I still don’t know/remember how this whole marathon thing started. I don’t know how I got into this but to be honest I’m happy I did. Not sure I’ll still be happy tomorrow though. Or monday, or tuesday… I don’t know why I haven’t been training enough. Don’t know why I drank so much. Don’t know why I didn’t eat healthy food. Don’t know why I didn’t change my mind. Don’t know why I started this blog. But what I know is that I am happy I am here – doing or not doing the all above-mentioned things – with less than 12 hours to go and a lot of excitement and a bit of worry. Excitement because it’s something I have been working on – kind of – for five months and it really is a big achievement – if I finish it… – and I can’t wait to see the faces of all the cunts that still don’t believe I’m doing this. Worry because it is a 26 mile run – and I am probably not ready for it – and my body will be well fucked after it but especially because of the weather.

Edinburgh, right now.

I am also a bit worried about my knees and my reputation but then again: my knees probably need surgery anyway and most of all what reputation? And then again: in case I won’t be able to finish the marathon – but hopefully I will – I’ve already got a plan anyway. Geoffrey the Butler’s one. Oh, yeah.

Also, because I don’t know how long it’ll take me to update this blog after tomorrow – I don’t even know if I will still be alive after tomorrow… – I seize the opportunity to thank every single person that supported me donating to Save the Children through my justgiving webpagelet’s not forget that the reason why I am running this marathon is charity! -, and every single person that will do it over the next days. Thank you! I want to thank everyone who’s been an encouragement and everyone who’s been a twat as well. It’s thanks to your support/mistrust that I kept going. Thank you! And of course I want to thank every single person that read, followed, shared, liked and talked about this blog. Hopefully some more posts will follow soon. So thank you too!

How I feel, right now.

So yeah, the day has finally come: tomorrow – May 27th – I will be running the Edinburgh Marathon and we will all see who will laugh last. Probably you though, not gonna lie.

You, when you laugh.

But let’s talk about today. Today I finally behaved as a proper athlete. Finally. Except from the fact that proper atheltes don’t have to work. But I had to. On a saturday. After pay day. With 25°C outside. On a saturday. If you know what I mean. Anyway, I finally behaved. Had proper food for both lunch and dinner – granting that sainsbury’s pasta can be considered proper food – , drank 3 litres of water – so far – and not a single drop of alcohol – so far – , have been peeing Highland Spring Water all day – went for a wee something like a million times – and I am planning on going to bed soon – ish – . A proper athlete. Oh, yeah.

But in a bunch of minutes it’ll be tomorrow: the big day and I now have to go and get some sleep. Will get up at 6am, eat some eggs and a banana and drink some more water for breakfast, wait until I take a big dump, take a big dump, take a nice room-temperature shower, wear my awesome running outfit, drink a lucozade or two on my way to the start line, sign a thousand or two autographs, run the marathon, sign another thousand or two autographs, go to the pub, get people to buy me drinks, get steaming – totes -, get laid – maybe – and wake up on monday in a shit state. A proper athlete. Oh, yeah.

So fellas, wish me luck!

…Because I need it!

I really do.

Riccardo


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OVER THREE HUNDRED

“Now, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you. But I can run like the wind blows.”

The wind, blowing.

Yes, it means “I can run fast”… And no, those are not my words. And yes, I put a picture after the first line of this post. Any problem? Uh? Anyway. Those are Forrest Gump’s words in that bit at the beginning of the movie when he’s sitting on a bench with that black woman telling her how it all started. Remember it? Yes? Yes? No? Well if your answer is “No”, go watch the movie and then come back. And I’m not asking this to you. I’m telling you. Really. Go. Go now. Anyway. No, those are definitely not my words. My words would be more like Lieutenant Dan’s ones halfway through the film. More something like “Look! Look! Look at me! Do you see that? Do you know what it’s like not to be able to use your legs?”. Yeah, totally more like that. But let me explain.

Since last time we spoke a few things happened. First of all somebody must have published this useless blog somewhere on the web because I now have over 300 different visits a day from all around the world.

Three hundred of those over-three-hundred different visitors I get every day.

Now, to whoever did this, I don’t know whether I should thank you or tell you to fuck off. I really don’t know. Of course, Wow!! I mean up to two weeks ago the only people who actually gave a crap – and even there we have to see how true is that… – about this blog were just my friends, mainly from Italy, United Kingdom, USA, Canada, some other few European countries and of course New Papua Guinea. Twenty, sometimes forty, sometimes ninety different visits a day. But for sure not three hundred. – For sure not over three hundred... – Some days it was just five or ten of yous checking my blog and that was fine. Some other days, when I published something there was like an increase and it was eighty, ninety, maybe one hundred of yous. And that made me happy.

Me, happy, celebrating a day with forty-seven visits. Long time ago.

It really did. But now? Now I’ve got over three hundred different visitors every single day. From all around the world. – I am not showing off, you twats! I am just rambling on because I don’t have much to say about me running… – Over three hundred different visits a day from all around the world and I feel a wee bit under pressure. Not gonna lie, a lot under pressure. – Dun Dun Dun Dududun Dun, Dun Dun Dun Dududun Dun, Under Pressure… – People visit my blog every day from all the five continents and that’s kind of a big deal. Yes, I said five. FIVE. CINQUE. CINCO. CINQ. FUNF. PIEC. BES. GO. WU. PET. VIJF. VIIS. OT. FEM. CINCI. I know what you’re thinking but I’ve been taught that there are five continents in this world and all your stupid theories about six or four or seven – good one… – continents are just crap. A big steaming, stinking crap.

Five continents. Period.

Anyway. You know how hard it is to write something and make it so that over three hundred different people – from all the five different continents there are in the world – would find it amusing? Or at least interesting? You do realise how fucking stressed out I am right now? You do have a fucking idea??? No, you probaby don’t. But then again, neither do I then no big deal! So, that’s the reason why I am gonna thank you, rather thank telling you to fuck off. Thank you because now I know that I really have to finish this marathon, and I have to do it because people from all around the world support me and believe in me. – Believe in me, more than support me, but we’ll get there won’t we? Yes we will. We’ll get there. We’ll get here, and therefore there. – I have to finish this marathon for Save the Children. I have to finish this marathon for all the people who sponsored me already and also for the ones that are going to. I have to finish this marathon for me, because otherwise I will have to move to another country straight away in order not to face such a public humiliation, and I don’t want to. I have to finish it because you’ll be all waiting for a post the very minute after I cross the finish line. And I will give it to you. I will give it to you.

It really is.

Anyway. I did go for a couple of runs since we last spoke. Once with James. A couple of times by myself. James and I ran 6,6 miles at the beginning of last week in almost an hour but then had to stop because my knees were giving me troubles. Even though I was wearing two knee supports – which are helping a lot, by the way – and I looked like a twat – more than usual, I mean – the knees were really sore at one point so I decided to stop. But I was expecting it and that run was more of a test rather than a proper training session and it went pretty well, if you ask me. Went again during the week, this time on my own, and ran 5 miles in 40 minutes. And again just before the weekend for another 8 mile run in one hour and five minutes.

My huge fan Obama, telling me that I’m doing “Not bad”

Then I decided to take this whole thing to the next level. It was time for it. It was time to go for a real run. It was time for a 15 mile run. Fifteen. Something like 24 kilometres. E non è male… So I went for it. And long story short, I did it. I ran 15 miles in two hours and three minutes. And I felt great. Inside. – I don’t want to talk about the fact that I was in so much pain all night and all the day after… – Was feeling shit for the first 3/4 miles but then I found my pace and I just kept going, taking a wee break for some stretching any time I felt like I needed one, till I finished my tenth lap – every lap is exactly 1,5 mile – around the Meadows. Now I would have gone for another run today but after work I had pizza waiting for me – not Two For Tuesday tho!!! – and so I decided not to. I’ll go for it either tomorrow or thursday anyway. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just save my energies for the big day – Sunday – and see how it goes. I’m pretty excited – and nervous too, not gonna lie… – and even though I do realise that I haven’t been training enough and that I had far too many drinks and junk food during the past five months and that my knees may collapse any time, I am confident: I know I will finish this marathon. Even though there are just three days left. Three days to the marathon. Three days.

Not one, not two, but three. Three.

Three fucking days.

And I wish they were over three hundred…

 

 


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‘CAUSE I’M A MOTHERLOVER

Dear fans,

Today in Italy it was Mother’s Day. I’m telling you in case you didn’t know it already, ’cause I’m a Motherlover and I thought it was the right thing to do.

 

 

So I phoned my mum on skype as soon as I got home from work and four hours later here I am, still sitting on my couch, still at the laptop, still not gone for a run, still listening to that song. Today in Italy – and in Papua New Guinea too, true story – it was Mother’s Day and – yeah – that’s pretty much my excuse for not going for a run tonight.

Thanks Charlie. The real reason why I didn’t go though is the fact that the weather in Edinburgh in these days is a little bit adverse.

The view from my window in Edinburgh, right now

Yeah, adverse. Which I don’t even know whether it’s a real word or not. Whether. Weather. … I wish I had a funny joke for that but unfortunately I don’t. I may have one soon though but I’ll save it for another occasion. Maybe for that trip to IKEA that I’ve been planning for ages – don’t ask, you’ll never understand.. – or maybe for one of the next posts. Or maybe you can all suggest me one. Just not all at the same time like with the donations please. Anyway, I’m kinda hoping that the weather will stay like this until – and of course – on the day of the Marathon. At least I will have a valid excuse for the miserable performance I will give. Yeah my dear fans, I really said miserable.

Yous, confused.com, right now.

Let me explain. As the most attentive of you might have catched during the past few weeks, it does look like I am not really training that much. As for the rest of you – yes, you you! – here I am telling you now loud and clear that as a matter of fact I am not training at all. I’d love to say “enough” – instead of at all – but that would be a lie and if there is one thing I am not, well that is a lier! Am not tall, rich, gifted, smart, beautiful, funny, skilled, well-equipped, tanned, fit, interesting or cultured either but that doesn’t really matter. Also, as the cleverest of you may already know, twenty-six miles aka forty-two kilometres aren’t really a piece of cake. Not even nearly. Twenty-six miles aka forty-two kilometres are a shit load of miles/kilometres and I know I will hate every single one of them. I’m sorry – my dear fans – but it’s probably time for all of us to face the truth. This whole marathon thing is just not really a job I can get my teeth into. I will do it though, but it will hurt. A lot. But still, I will fucking do it!!!

“Yeah, sure…”

Forget the fact that my knees are fucked. Forget the fact that I drink too much. Forget the fact that I don’t eat healthy food. Forget the fact that I’m not trained enough. Forget the fact that I have doubts myself. Forget the fact that I may go out the night before and sleep in the morning of the marathon. Forget the fact that I don’t even know where the marathon starts. Forget the fact that I don’t even know how to get back home – by ambulance is my fave option though… – . Forget the fact that I still haven’t received neither my number nor the micro-chip. Forget everything. Just remember that I will do it.

I will do it because it’s for charity, don’t you ever forget that I’m doing it for Save the Children! So PLEASE SPONSOR ME!!!

I will do it because it’s going to be a great achievement for myself and something I will always be proud of. And something I can always throw in your faces you lazy bastards!!!

I will do it because you – my dear fans from all around the World – have all been supporting me a lot and I really appreciate that. Fuck aye!!!

My good friend/supporter Borat giving me the thumbs up

But mainly I will do it because you sponsored me, giving money to Save the Children, and there is no fucking way we’ll give you a refund. Nae chance!!!

Nae fucking chance.


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MAY DAY v MAYDAY

So today it was May Day – the International Workers’ Day – but it was also Mayday – Houston we have a problem – depending on whether you’ve been lucky enough to have it off – and paid – or you’ve been me.

If you belong to the first category you can stop reading now and go back to whatever you were doing before popping in here because I don’t want to talk to you. Ever again. And this picture is for you.

I really do.

If you had it off but you haven’t seen a single penny, or cent, or toeafor my Papua New Guinean friend – for staying at home all day seated on your arse while munching on junk food and watching Made in Chelsea on tv, or if you are a minimum wage cunt like me and you’ve been working hard – … – all day, then you are welcome to stay and keep reading at least until the next episode of TOWIE begins.

I am of course joking.

I know what we’re all really waiting for is the next episode of Geordie Shore to begin.

Your face - I hope - right now.

Now verified that none of us enjoyed the International Workers’ Day – even though people like me ARE International Workers – let’s focus on the (Houston-we-have-a) problem.

Today it was May Day aka May 1st aka 26-days-to-the-marathon-day.

So mean…

But we really do have a problem here.

Twenty-six days to the marathon. Nae jokes. And I don’t feel that much of a celebrity anymore. Not at all. I haven’t been training ever since that day when both my knees stopped working and probably haven’t really ever considered the real dangers of this whole marathon thing. I am not gonna lie, what happened during the London Marathon did freak me out a little. It is true that the odds are pretty high that something like that will happen again and that it will happen to me but I still think that maybe I might have underestimated this 26,2 mile run called Marathon.

That’s why the next days are going to be extremely important and that’s why I am gonna start training properly once again from now until May 27th and I am gonna start eating healthier food and I am gonna cut off the drinks.

Your face - probably- right now.

OK maybe the bit about the drinks was bullshit but I am really concerned for myself and I really want to make use of this 26 days I’ve got left so I promise you I’ll put my shoes on and I’ll go and run every day – I’ll try at least – starting tomorrow and I promise you that the one I had tonight was the last Two-for-Tuesday until June.

Will go for a 5/7 mile run tomorrow after work and will let yous know how it goes. Hopefully I won’t be too tired after a full shift at work and hopefully my knees will be all right and hopefully it will be sunny in Edinburgh and hopefully a bunch of hot girls will be training too and will ask me to join them and hopefully I will find a £50 note on the street on my way home and – yeah OK – hopefully I will just be bothered enough to put those damn shoes on and go. Will keep you posted.

Now if you want ot excuse me, it is not tomorrow yet so I am gonna go and down a few pints and eat a couple of kebabs before I go to sleep and start dreaming about naked women.

Love, Riccardo.


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WHO’S GONNA DRIVE YOU HOME?

Dear fans,

Here I am again. Ten days after my last post. What a wanker.

I would really like to begin – once again – by apologising for my absence from this blog but as you can imagine I have been very… erm… very… – what’s that word again? Oh yeah… – busy! Very very busy.

Another untalented actor playing me, being very busy.

Being a full-time boozer, a full-time worker, a full-time celebrity blogger and a full-time runner is not that easy. Especially in that order… I am trying my best though, and you should know it. And just in case you’re wondering: my best is good enough. Ask your sisters. Waaaayyyyyy.

Now that you’ve asked them – … –  it’s time to move on and talk about the marathon.

May 27th is getting terribly closer: both my knees are pretty much fucked up- we’ll get there -, I am not even close to the £500 Save the Children asked me to fundraise, the weather in Edinburgh is shite and going for a run at 7.30 pm or even later after a full shift at work most of the times is just wrong.

At that time – and especially after a full shift at work – all you – Me, in this case – want to do is to go for a pint. But it’s never just one pint. It’s never just two pints either. It’s not even three, to be honest. You know that it’s more than likely six or seven, and a couple of double rum&cokes, and some shots inbetween. But you still think that’s acceptable. Until you find yourself – Myself, in this case – a few hours and a shit load of pounds later at the casino, sipping Tennent’s at the bar with your arse glued to a stool while your mates waste their money and hopes at the blackjack table, with a brand new nine-hours shift at work in something like two and half hours and an extremely annoying Talking Cricket next to you – mine looks exactly like the Fresh Prince’s mom… – reminding you that you should be training and not getting Charlie Sheened and asking you how did you get here? and who’s gonna drive you home? and where did you put the keys? and where’s the nearest chippie and would it still be open? and shit like that.

What a shame that you don’t have any of those answers. Especially the only one we all care about: the one about the food…

So yeah – long story short – I don’t have idea when or how or why I got home from the casino the other night but I do remember how I got home from my last run exactly a week ago.

It was last thursday: April 10th, 47 days to the marathon, 8-ish pm. I am on fire and I am halfway through the training. I’ve got almost all the way to Musselburgh – almost – via Arthur’s Seat and Duddingstone – same old route – and I am literally flying home. A big smile on my face, an amazing outfit – as always -, good tunes in my ears and I am loving every single second of this training session. Especially the bit on the Portobello Promenade: cold wind, rough sea and a bit of rain just the way I like it. Not joking. I am on Portobello Road now and I’ve put 8,2 miles under my heels in 1h10m. Not too bad. There’s only one problem: for the last 10/15 minutes my right knee has been a bit of a dick and for the last 5 minutes so has been his left pal. Annoying but tolerable. I am still on Portobello Road – almost on London Road – when I run past Morrisons and suddenly they both collapse. Both my fucking knees stop working at the same time!!!

Thursday's route, up till the moment my knees decided they'd had enough.

I am raging. Raging, scared as fuck and in a lot of pain. I am on the other side of Edinburgh – kind of -, something like 4 miles away from home, with no money and no phone on me, covered in sweat, wet because of the rain and immobilized.

How I felt at the time.

After a wee break at a bus stop I somehow make my way to James and Louise’s flat. Here I get a pint of water, a knee support – which I was meant to get anyway since my right knee has been giving me troubles for about 7 years now… – and a good chat. Thanks guys. When I leave the flat I am still in pain but I manage to walk and I get to the Scottish Parliament. It took me a good ten minutes but still… Then – believe it or not – the mp3 player plays this song. I swear to God it did. I wish I could tell you that a cab appeared straight after that but I can’t. I had to wait a couple of minutes – while it was still raining, I was still in pain and I was still sweating like Walter Pandiani in his memorable press conference – but eventually I managed to get one and got home safely and I can asnwer the question in the title. HIM!

Unfortunately I still don’t know how I got home from the casino but I want to say that the cabbie was sound and waited for me downstairs while I was getting the money – Cheers Marcus! – and wished me luck and everything.

So yeah: I went for a run and I got home by taxi.

A fucking celebrity, that’s what I am.